Acceptance
by Marching Clocks
Summary: The boy was a werewolf, an outcast in Gryffindor house. What will he do when an old acquaintance comes to find him? Warning: Original Male Character OMC, Violence, Adult Content, Adult Language, Slash
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, I know that the entire Fanfiction population HATES OC's. I hate them too, to be completely honest. But with Harry Potter, there are so many characters, and so many places to put your own characters. Writing fanfiction is about having fun, and I am doing so by writing this story. I am going to try my hardest to NOT make my character a gary-stue/mary-sue, but I have to have him interact with _some _characters. I just want to improve the reputation of original characters (they aren't all bad!). This story is purely for my enjoyment. :^) I'm bored, and I lost my almost completed chapter to my other story when my laptop died. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my Original Male Character (OMC). **

Warnings: Violence, Adult Content, Slash, Original Character(s), Darkness

* * *

><p>"No more tears. I am giving you a gift. You will be more powerful than anyone else in your pathetic school. You will have strength beyond their comprehension."<p>

Beltrano gasped for breath, his body wracked with sobs. His blood was in a pool around him. Every beat of his heart pumped more out, and more fire spread through him. He was so scared. It hurt so much.

He couldn't move. His eyes were frozen on his father's boots, shining brightly in the moonlight. He had polished those boots just the night before, smiling and laughing with his mother as he scrubbed them with the strong-smelling shoe brush. His father stalked out of the alley, his cloak swishing quietly behind him. Beltano heard the loud crack of Apparation (a noise that disturbed the whining creature beside him, causing a yelp and then a growl) and he knew that he had been left alone with the wolf.

The large animal panted against his searing skin, whining in his ears as he nudged him. Every touch was torture, and he moaned in pain through his stiff lips. The wolf sighed through his nostrils, and Beltrano wished he could scream when the rough tongue swiped across his side, aggravating the deep gouges and sending blinding pain through him. Despite his anguish, the animal did not stop. He cleaned the wound until Beltrano was only half-conscious with the pain of it. He wished he would die. He wished his mother would save him.

Then, Beltrano's vision cleared and the pain began to ebb away. The more the animal licked, the less the wound hurt. He no longer felt the trickling of blood past his fingers, and he realized that the wolf was cleaning his wounds. Healing them, even.

Suddenly, the wolf stood from its crouching position, and it slowly lumbered around until the boy and the animal were face to face. A pair of shocking, intelligent amber eyes locked with his, and Beltrano knew that it was no ordinary wolf. Slowly, the magnificent canine lowered his head; silver-faced with dove gray patterns showering back in thick coils behind his immense figure. The rough tongue splashed wetly against Beltrano's feverish cheek, and he felt the strange urge to smile. He supposed it wouldn't be too bad to die at the hands of such a beautiful beast.

He weakly lifted his hand from the pool of blood by his abdomen, and he let his fingers graze over the coarse fur by its muzzle. The wolf licked the small smear of blood from his face, and nudged the boy's fingers with his cold nose.

Beltrano smiled, his eyes drooping.

As he drifted off, he felt the warm body settling around him, cocooning him in comfort until everything went black.

* * *

><p>Beltrano hated it when the other boys stared at his scars.<p>

They never had the gall to actually say anything about the deep purple lines bisecting his torso, but he felt their eyes on him every time he dressed in the dorms.

He liked to lock eyes with them when he caught them staring. The other boys were intimidated by him. He supposed the scars made him seem mysterious, dangerous even. He didn't care what they thought of him anymore.

No one could hate him more than he hated himself.

* * *

><p>Bel ignored his porridge at breakfast, instead deciding to watch Harry Potter and his friends across the Gryffindor table. The table was littered with the disturbed plates of their breakfast. The other students were chatting merrily, talking amongst themselves. Bel had never had many friends. He knew he was intimidating, and he held mostly acquaintances in Gryffindor house. Potter was sitting with his small group of friends, his hand holding his head up as he dozed.<p>

Potter was a fifth year, one year younger than Beltrano. Bel didn't see what was so special about the boy. He was a gangly teenager, much like every other Hogwarts student. The only thing brilliant about the boy were his green eyes, wide and kind behind his round spectacles. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, but not much different from any other boy Bel had ever seen.

Fred and George Weasley's younger brother caught his gaze, and gave him a sour look. Bel tilted his head in challenge. The Weasley boy narrowed his eyes, making a show of cocking his head to the side.

Bel smirked and sipped his pumpkin juice. Apparently his smirk was intimidating, because the ginger fifth year turned away and dug back into his breakfast, his ears red.

"That Italian bloke is bloody creepy," Bel heard him grumble. He looked pointedly at his food, hearing Granger's reply of, "Oh, he's quite good-looking though, isn't he?"

Bel heard a snort.

"He's bloody _weird. _He always stares. He's even more of a vulture than Snape," Weasley muttered, sounding defensive. Granger sighed, and Bel felt her gaze on him. He dared a glance, and he saw that Potter had perked up to their conversation. He leaned in, and Bel had to strain to hear.

"Dumbledore told me to watch out for him. I don't know why, but there seems to be something...off about him."

Bel felt his face paling, and he quickly stood up and dashed from the Great Hall.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Gallo, may I speak with you for a moment?"<p>

Bel stopped in his tracks. McGonagall had _never_ taken any special interest in him. In fact, he didn't remember her ever talking to him alone in his entire school career.

He was a sixth year.

She placed her hand on his shoulder, and the wave of her robes sent a waft of her sent into his face. She smelled of worry, Earl Gray, and ink.

"I'm going to make this quick, because I don't want to cause your lateness to any of your other classes. You need to be very careful, Mr. Gallo."

A cold feeling washed through him. He gave his Head of House a tight smile.

"What do you mean, ma'am?" He said politely. She reared back a bit, her stern mouth tightening into a white line.

"I mean, Mr Gallo, that it would be prudent for you not to draw attention to yourself with our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Take that as you will, she is not a tolerant woman. Professor Dumbledore can only keep your secret for so long. If she notices you, she _will _report you."

Bel went stiff as a board, his fingers clenching hard on his satchel. _McGonagall can't do this to me, not in the middle of the hall! Fuckfuckfuckfuck…_

He forcefully relaxed his grip, running a shaky hand through his thick dark hair.

"I assure you, I have no idea what you are talking about. But if you are saying I should lay under the radar, Professor, I already do that quite well, thank you."

He spun on his heel, marching away with shaking hands. How did she know? How did _Dumbledore _know? Oh Merlin, he was going to be kicked out. If Dumbledore could find out, Umbridge could find out just as easily. He was going to be sent back to his father. He was going to have to face that _thing _every day for the rest of his life. He would never become a Potions Master. He would never develop a cure. Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

He felt like a block of ice by the time he reached Potions. He was lucky they were brewing anti-Itch cream, a potion he could brew blindfolded and with his hands tied behind his back. His lab partner, Maria Millar, was a helpful but quiet girl with light brown hair and thick black spectacles. She didn't speak to him much, but she was kind when she did.

Today, she stood back while he stiffly finished their potion and turned down the heat to let it congeal. His nerves were knotted, and he could smell her uneasiness. It was a tangible sourness in the air, and he could see her fingers knotted together in her lap.

"U-um…" Her voice was loud in his sensitive ears. He turned to look at her, his wand held loosely in his right hand. Her eyes widened and her face reddened.

She took a deep breath.

"Are you alright-Bel-Beltrano? You seem angry…" She looked embarrassed.

Bel frowned. Did he really look angry? He glanced around him, sensing the uneasiness of his peers. The boy to his left kept shooting him looks out of the corner of his eye.

He felt a bit guilty, because he had obviously scared the small sixth year. He smiled at her.

"Thank you, I suppose I am a bit on edge…Homework and all of that."

She deflated with relief.

"Oh, okay. Um, you know, if you need help with-er-anything you can always ask me. I'm-er-good at giving advice." Her face was bright red, so red it hid the freckles that covered her nose and cheeks. She glanced behind them, locking eyes with her friend who was giggling profusely.

His smile was almost genuine as he nodded to her, checking their potion (brewed to perfection), and putting his wand in the pocket of his trousers.

"Time's up. Please place your potions in your containers and turn them in at my desk. No matter what state they are in." He eyed Cormac McLaggen's cauldron distastefully. It was white, the correct color, but it was also the texture of cottage cheese and emitting purple smoke. His partner, Katie Bell, was grinding her teeth and tugging on the ends of her hair.

Bel scooped the cream into the round twist-cap container and quickly placed it on Snape's desk. Snape cracked his open immediately, his lip quirking upward a bit. Snape had never spoken to him in anger or kindness, so he supposed that was grudging approval from the Potion's Master. He planned on asking to be a teacher's aide in seventh year (if Umbridge didn't have him expelled) and then an Apprentice after he graduated. He didn't know any other Potion's Masters, and he desperately needed the time away from home.

One thing he always noticed about Professor Snape was, he had no smell. Not even the the scent of magic or potions hung about the black-robed man. It always confused Bel, because even the first years, with their small amounts of untrained magic, had a scent specific to them. Not Professor Snape. He expected the man masked his true scent, but that didn't make any sense. Even Dumbledore allowed his magic to remain poignant in the air.

Beltrano picked up his bag and walked quickly out of the room.

* * *

><p>Umbridge gave him a T on his essay.<p>

A _T_. He had never received below an Acceptable. In fact, he had never received an Acceptable. That would feel worse than a T, because he was just 'average', an honest worthy score. No, a Terrible meant a grudge. A Terrible meant that Umbridge knew something. A Terrible meant that he would be expelled. He would never spend another night in the Forbidden Forest, chasing unicorns and growling at centaurs. He would never converse with another ghost, or be in awe of another fantastic event in his school. He would never again feel pride when he saw his House win the cup, or receive a smile from a small brunette girl even after he had been rude to her.

His hands were trembling when he stepped into the corridor, free of the horridly perfume-y classroom with his loud rambling classmates.

He practically ran to the dorm, charging up the winding stairs to his four poster bed. He slammed his books down by his trunk and vigorously tugged off his school robes. Fuck! Fuck Umbridge! Fuck Dumbledore! _Fuck me._

He gave a small sob of frustration. He tugged on a white cotton jumper and demon trousers. He had to eat supper. It was a full moon tonight. If he didn't eat, he could hurt somebody. If he hurt somebody, he would never forgive himself.

* * *

><p>"What the fuck's wrong with you, Gallo?" Zabini hissed, his forearms poised beside his plate as he daintily cut his prime rib. Bel had decided to sit at the Slytherin table that evening. Their mothers were good friends, and often forced them to play together as young boys. (All Italians seemed to be friends with each other in England.)<p>

"I got a Terrible on my Defense assignment."

Zabini faltered for a moment, then his lips began twitching uncontrollably. He let out a small burst of laughter, startling Draco Malfoy who was lazily bragging to Pansy Parkinson about his Father's promotion.

"It's not funny, _bastardo._ I've never gotten less than an E...I don't know what to do with myself. I think I might drown in the Lake later this evening," He complained miserably.

Zabini fought desperately to contain his laughter. His usually bored expression was replaced by what looked like his imminent sickness. Draco Malfoy watched in fascination, ignoring Pansy's cooing to his left.

"Gallo, if it means that much to you...why don't you challenge her grade? I doubt even Goyle has received a terrible in Defense," Draco chimed in. Beltrano ground his teeth, watching as Blaise's right eye twitched until it was almost closed.

"The last thing I want to do is draw attention to myself. She is just bloody _awful._"

Apparently Draco disagreed, because his eyes narrowed to slits.

"It's not her fault you can't do quality work, Gallo. The Ministry appointed her, and my father and I find her to be a very competent teacher."

"How would your father know, Draco? He's never seen her teach," interject Zabini, who had composed himself so only his eyebrow was twitching.

Draco glared even more heavily, his arms crossing over his chest and his nose pointing in the air.

"He knows her _personally. _My father works for the Ministry, and he has a lot of inside knowledge on their movements. Umbridge is a wholesome woman who hates Halfbloods and is trying to purify our school. She's sure to keep reign on the blithering old fool's nonsense."

Zabini clicked his tongue, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice that he had transfigured perfectly into wine.

"Halfbloods?"

Draco's nose seemed to be gravitating toward the ceiling.

"Yes. She's been the founder of many laws regulating magical creatures. She's the one who convinced the Minister to execute that Hippogriff in third year. She and my father have been friends ever since."

Bel sucked his lower lip in between his teeth and bit down hard.

Fuck.

Zabini calmly took another sip of his drink, mulling over Draco's statement.

"Well, I suppose my views on her have changed. After the incident with Professor Lupin in third year, there really do need to be regulations on magical creatures. Don't you agree, Gallo?"

Oh, fuck you Zabini!

"I think if magical creatures are respected, there will be nothing to fear from them. Excuse me, I have an unfinished Potions essay to work on." Bel gave the two Slytherins a polite smile before the fled the Great Hall for the second time that day. Did _everybody _suspect him now? Who the fuck had told anything? His father?

He lay face down on his bed, dreading six o'clock when he would join the rest of his kind in the Forbidden Forest.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**One more thing to say. **

**Harry, Ron, and Hermione are very perceptive and sneaky people. They seem to find everything out through either spying or Dumbledore's 'warnings'. This seems like something canon to me. If there was a werewolf at the school (one not trusted or put there by Dumbledore), Dumbledore would warn Harry about him. **


	2. Chapter 2

Beltrano woke feeling like his fingers were going to fall off. He was curled up in a pile of leaves, only his torso was warm from being curled up on his stomach. He groaned in pain, feeling a slight sting in his back and neck. He bent his sore head to look at his shoulder, which was stained with sticky brown blood. His whole neck hurt. He supposed one of the other werewolves had got a bit cocky last night. He did recall pain, followed by dignified anger. He was naked, and freezing. It had snowed the night before, something his wolf had adored. He hopped across the clearing, puffing out freezing bits of air until he reached the large hollowed tree where he had kept his school robes. He scooped up snow to rub off the dried blood, and then he dressed quickly, sighing with relief at the warm wool layers he covered himself with. He slipped on several pairs of socks and then his shiny black school shoes.

The walk back to the school was rather quiet. The sun had barely risen above the hilled horizon, and he was exhausted from the night before. His wounds felt better and better the more he walked, and soon he knew they were healed. He sighed, taking in deep the cool air. The snow was too powdery to crunch, but the sound was still satisfying beneath his feet. Exhausted but pleased, he reached the school. He snuck into the dungeons through the passage in the roots of the large ivy plant.

By the time he reached the Great Hall, the early risers had already arrived and breakfast already littered the tables. He plopped down at the emptiest part of Gryffindor table and dug ravenously into the sausages. He was sore, tired, and miserable. The 'Terrible' he had received the day before still weighed heavily on his mind. As he chewed, he leaned completely on his hand, his eyes drooping. Full moons really took a lot out of him.

He sat at that table, idly eating meat products, until somebody interrupted his stupor.

"Hey...Uh...Gallo."

Bel yawned, glancing up to the nervous gray eyes that were focused on his. Crabbe and Goyle shifted awkwardly beside him, looking a lot less intimidating than usual. Draco braced his shoulders, cool and confident.

"Come to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow. We'll have supper at the Three Broomsticks. It will be...fun."

Gallo took a huge gulp of pumpkin juice.

"Sure, Malfoy. What brought this on?"

Malfoy nodded tightly, "I simply wanted to invite you out. Based on last night, you make interesting conversation."

Bel nodded again, turning back to his food. Malfoy stiffened at the dismissal, but he turned and left to the Slytherin table without another word.

The rest of the morning was still spent in a tired stupor. He couldn't shake the exhaustion, and he surmised that he must have had a rough night the night before. The werewolves in the forest had completely been taken over by their wolves. Even the darker packs had still retained some of their humanity.

After lunch, Bel had double potions. They were to attempt to brew Draught of the Living Death, which would actually take a lot of his concentration. Bel let out a hiss when he saw the writing of on the board, startling Marie who blushed and shied away from him.

"Um, is something w-wrong, Beltrano?"

Beltrano grit his teeth hard, trying not to snap at her. When he had composed himself, he smiled.

"I'm fine, just a bit tired." He vigorously slapped down the ingredients, his temple throbbing.

Marie took a deep breath beside him, and he tried desperately to calm himself down. He was always grumpy after a full moon.

"W-would you like me to take the lead on this one? I mean, it's no big deal."

Bel stopped.

"Actually, yes, thank you. I'm really tired."

He sighed, taking a step back to allow Marie to take the reigns. He leaned against the desk, cocking his head to watched her work through hooded eyes. She—like many of the other people in the class—had a lot of trouble with the sopophorous bean. She tried to cut it as it jumped away from her hands, sliding across the work bench.

"Here, crush it, don't cut it." He took the knife and the bean from her, causing her cheeks to light up in embarrassment.

He carefully smashed the bean with the dull edge of the knife and squeezed the juice into the cauldron, watching as it turned the perfect shade of black.

"Let it sit for a few minutes, then stir it seven times anti-clockwise," He muttered, glancing at the book.

She nodded in acknowledgment, and did as he read.

He glanced down at the potion, noticing that it was clear, but not perfectly. The bottom of the cauldron was still slightly blurred.

"I think one more stir clockwise would be beneficial to the potion," He muttered, staring at the directions. He shrugged, and added the stir. For a moment both Marie and Bel stared in awe at the potion, which seemed to disappear in the cauldron. Beltrano smiled in triumph, slumping exhaustedly into his chair. Marie gave him a little grin, bottling their potion and placing it on Snape's desk.

She sat back down, shifting awkwardly for a moment.

"How do you know so much about Potions?" She didn't look him in the eye, instead fiddling with a hole in her stocking.

"I was very interested in it as a child. My mother bought me a Potions kit as soon as I expressed interest."

Marie perked up at his answer.

"So, you're a pureblood? I'm a muggleborn myself, I didn't know anything about magic until my mum and dad got a visit from McGonagall at work."

A muggleborn. His father would have sneered, and his mother would have smiled and asked her what her parents were like.

"It must have been very exciting for you." He settled for that reply.

She seemed delighted.

"Ooh, yes! My parents were excited as well! I found out a whole world that I was allowed to be apart of. Probably the best moment of my life."

Bel smiled genuinely, nodding in reply. They sat in companionable silence until Snape dismissed the class.

"Mr. Gallo, may I speak with you please?"

Bel approached the desk warily, looking at Snape's long fingers clutched around their potion vial rather than looking at his face.

"What did you do to this?"

Bel froze. _Cazzo_, he must have bother the potion with that last stir.

"I added one stir clockwise. I thought it might make the potion clearer. Sir, did I ruin it?"

Snape rose from his desk, placing his hands behind his back. He gave Bel a rare smile, but it did not reach his eyes.

"No, no. I also thought to add to the potion when I was your age. You have impressed me. I did not expect this from any of my students this year, let alone a Gryffindor."

Bloody hell, was that a compliment? From Severus Snape?

"Well, thank you sir," said Bel, feeling extremely flattered.

"You have never caused trouble in my class, and you have always been relatively respectful. I must say, these are strange qualities for a Gryffindor," Snape continued. The way he said it made it sound like a question.

"You've never given me any reason to disrespect you, sir."

Snape smiled without any real emotion.

"The reason I am holding you after is...I wanted to offer you an Apprenticeship. The Headmaster has already agreed that you would be the best fit."

Beltrano was truly stunned.

"But...But sir, what about Draco Malfoy? I mean, he has top marks in Potions and he's a Slytherin."

Snape waved away his suggestion. Beltrano was confused. He seemed much more easy-going than usual. Usually, Snape was cold and sarcastic to even students he tolerated. He was never really attentive to anyone.

"You are by far best suited for the job, especially after today. I thought I was the only one who thought to add the last clockwise stir. You have impressed me."

Bel pondered this for only a moment.

"Of course sir, I would love to be your Apprentice. And it's a year sooner than I expected. I was going to ask you after I graduated."

Snape smiled that dead smile again.

"Excellent. The sooner the better. I will be glad to see you next year."

Snape nodded in dismissal, and Bel trotted off into the dungeons. Snape's behavior was...strange, but that didn't change the fact that he had been offered an Apprenticeship! He was going to become a Potions Master! Maybe he _wasn't _going to be expelled.

* * *

><p>Hogsmeade was awkward. Zabini was so amused by the whole affair, Bel feared he would have an aneurysm from holding in all of his laughter.<p>

They sat silently in the Three Broomsticks, none of them knowing what to say to the other. Draco was shifting in his seat, his eyes glancing at anyone but Bel. Bel was staring at the Malfoy, wondering why he had been invited.

"Ah-finally," Malfoy murmured, breaking the long silence. His eyes were on the door.

A small group of rough-looking men stepped in. Their scent filled Bel's nostrils, immediately setting his teeth on edge.

_Werewolves._

No one noticed their arrival, as it was rather packed in the small pub. The leader, a man with long silver hair, stepped closer, and Bel began to literally tremble with fear.

Fenrir Greyback. The last time he saw the man, he had been eight years old. That was when he was bitten, that was when he was made into the monster he was.

Blaise shot him a concerned look, shown only by the slight crinkling of his brow.

The pack of werewolves moved closer, and Greyback gave a lazy grin as he swung into the seat beside Bel. All of the boys at the table stiffened, and the rest of the werewolves hung by the bar.

"Hello, pup. Didja miss me?"

The voice was gravelly and cold. Goosebumps rose on every piece of Bel's skin, and he cringed away from his Alpha and sire. He could not speak back. He wanted to scream, to kill this man for ruining his life, but all he could do was cower like the 'pup' he was.

"Hello, Greyback. You had no trouble getting here, I trust," inquired Draco politely, sipping his butterbeer like it was the finest of wines. Blaise' eyes widened a minuscule amount, and Bel was looking anywhere but his Alpha. Draco looked slightly guilty.

Greyback growled, taking a deep gulp from Beltrano's untouched mug.

"Don't be condescending, Malfoy spawn. I hate people who are condescending."

The smile he gave after his words made Bel cringe even if he wasn't the target of it.

Malfoy looked flabbergasted, but when he opened his mouth to retort, Greyback stood abruptly to his feet and dragged Bel along with him.

"This was lovely, Malfoy, and thank you for returning my pup to me. We will be going now."

When they stood, Fenrir was almost two heads taller than Beltrano (which was saying something, because Bel was not a small man). He kept a firm grip on his arm as he led him from the Three Broomsticks. Bel could barely breathe, and the three werewolves behind him laughed when they smelled his fear. Fenrir walked them to the outskirts of the village, and when they found an abandoned alley, he slammed Beltrano against the wall.

Warm breath hit his face, expelled in a sour laugh that chilled him.

"Hello, pup. You've been quite hard to find, you know that? I'm glad I found you before you came of age, that was something I didn't want to miss."

Beltrano's father had been keeping him hidden in their warded home, and Hogwarts trips had never even been considered an issue. The Dark Lord must really be back if it meant that Fenrir Greyback could walk around untouched in Hogsmeade.

"I'm _not _your pup," Bel ground out, and the other werewolves laughed again.

"He's a feisty one, Fenrir. Are you sure he'll get on with the pack?"

"Yes, I know he will. He just needs to be trained, much like you, Zeke." Fenrir smirked over his shoulder at the red-headed man behind him, who gave him a smile in return. Zeke was a tall, broad man. All of the werewolves seemed to be packed with muscle.

"Pack? I can't go with you. I've got school...I just got offered an apprenticeship..."

Fenrir's smirk fell, and suddenly he looked furious.

"You can pretend to be a wizard as long as you want, but you will always be a werewolf."

"I'm not pretending! I am a wizard! And I'm going to find a cure for lycanthropy so I won't have to be like this anymore."

The werewolves behind him all flinched, and Bel felt a stinging pain in his face as Fenrir's hand collided with it. The frigid snowy air bit into the slap, sending a loud crack into the air. Fuck. He twisted in Fenrir's grip, but the man was like a brick wall against him. Fenrir tangled his hand in his hair and exposed his throat, sending panic through Bel.

"They've brainwashed you. You are coming with me."

"No-" He choked on the air he was inhaling as a tug on his navel spent him spinning into the air, falling through time and space as the wind roared in his ears and his body squeezed itself through a tube.

He gasped, finding himself on a grassy expanse of land.

They had Apparated him away.

* * *

><p>Bel sat on the ground, stunned, while he watched little children running about in the snow, all clad in thick furs and moccasins.<p>

The pack steered clear of him, their eyes reproachful and uncomfortable. He didn't mind. The snow was melting into his trousers, and he was shivering from the intense cold. They seemed to be in the mountains somewhere.

Greyback had stomped into a large white tent the second they landed, shouting something to the inhabitants of the camp.

He had been kidnapped.

He would never go to Hogwarts again.

He would never be an Apprentice, or a Potions Master, or an anything. He would be nothing but a pack member, a forgotten child lost to the war.

He wished he had a drink.

* * *

><p><strong><em>A.N._**

**_God, I know that ended strangely, but I really want a new chapter and this whole Pottermore business is pissing me off. I've been camping there for HOURS. Haha!_**


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey," Someone said quietly to him after what seemed like hours. Even though Bel hadn't known he was there, he didn't flinch. He felt numb, and stunned. He wondered if he was going into shock. He had been _kidnapped _by the man who had haunted his nightmares his entire childhood. The man who had ruined his life.

Bel turned his eyes from the frozen earth to stare at the man who was hovering over him. He was much older than Bel, with long salt-and pepper hair, dark skin, and a gentle smile across his stubbly face. The gray in his hair was the only indication of his age; werewolves had a tendency to be outwardly young for a very long time. He had light blue eyes that were stark against his dark face and highlighted by the white of the snow.

The snow crunched as the man sat down heavily beside him, not close enough to touch, but close enough that he could feel the body heat radiating off of the other man.

"The cubs love winter, even if us adults don't. They love playing in the snow," the older gentleman observed in a warm voice. Beltrano had observed as much himself, but the fondness in the older werewolf's voice held a melancholy that made his statement much deeper.

The almost gray eyes turned on him, and he looked at his feet.

"You're almost a cub yourself. What is your name?"

Bel hesitated, jerkily shoving his hands into his pockets.

"I'm Beltrano Gallo. I'm sixteen."

The man nodded, his gaze warm but analytical.

"I am called Fang, it is nice of you to join us."

"A werewolf called Fang?" Bel's lips twisted in mirth.

Fang laughed, a gravelly, appealing sound.

"Yes, it is. But if you'll look closely," he paused to grit his teeth, revealing straight pearly whites, with a jutting left canine, "it is a bit accurate."

Bel thought the fang made the older man all the more appealing. He gave the other man a weary smile, despite his numbness.

"Why are you here, if you don't mind me asking? All the Alpha will do is rant about wizards and their evils."

Bel hung his head a bit, pulling at the ends of his hair.

"I became a werewolf by him when I was eight years old…he is tying up loose ends I expect."

Fang put a kind hand on his shoulder, laughing kindly.

"Oh, of course he isn't! Our alpha isn't a bad man. He cares about all of the wolves he sires. He considers you a part of his pack." Fang winked, glancing at the tent that Fenrir had disappeared into.

"He's not exactly the best at conveying his emotions."

Bel felt anger well up inside of him.

"Yes, I know how he conveys his emotions. He murders and turns children before they have the knowledge of what is happening." Bel's voice was not heated, but cold and succinct.

Fang's gaze became sad, but his eyes lost none of their warmth. Bel was angered even more to see pity cross his face.

"Some children cannot handle the change. Alpha doesn't intentionally harm anyone. He just wants to give others our gift."

Bel gave a cold laugh.

"Another man had the same idea. He wanted to give the world his 'gift' of education and purify it. Even if it meant slaughtering six million people and sending the world into war."

Fang's eyes sparkled with recognition, and he looked oddly proud.

"I believed the same thing, once. Just get to know Fenrir, and you will understand."

Bel held in a snort, his nose wrinkling slightly.

"Come now, I think he might have cooled down enough for you to talk to him."

Fang placed his large warm hands on Bel's arms, gently tugging him to his feet.

"And if not, you obviously know how to handle yourself."

Bel was irritated, but he felt warm from the compliment. So warm, in fact, he felt his face burning.

They approached the tent, which was about ten feet high and made out of several fur pelts stitched together. When they entered, Bel sighed in relief. The tent was about fifteen degrees warmer than the outside. They had also dug out a hole in the ground, so the warmth from the earth filled the enclosure. Fenrir was leaning against one of the tent poles, a female with hair down to her waist touching his arm and whispering in his ear. When he saw Bel approaching, his frown deepened.

"I want to go back to school," he said immediately. Fang, who still had his arm in his grasp, tightened his hold a bit and sighed.

Fenrir barked out a laugh, shaking off the female who was glaring profusely.

"I can't do that. I'm not going to allow you to be near those _wizards _that are poisoning your mind."

"Why do you even care," said Bel with forced calm, "you don't even know me. It's _your _fault I can't be a normal wizard anyway."

Fenrir laughed coldly. "It's not my fault, pup, that is entirely your father's fault. He used me to make you more powerful so he could use _you _to gain favor with the Dark Lord."

"That is a _lie." _Bel's voice fell into a hiss.

"Denying it won't make it true, sweetheart."

The bitch at his side cackled, and Bel was horrified to feel his eyes burn. He narrowed them in anger.

Fenrir's smile widened.

"I too followed the Dark Lord at that time. Your father remains faithful. He wanted you to be a werewolf so he could form ties with us, and you being strong put him in the Dark Lord's favor when he returned."

Bel clenched his teeth, his body shaking with anger. He wanted to deny it, _something_ but he had nothing to say. Fang's hand—that had just left his arm—held onto him again. It was very little comfort.

"If you are trying to get me to stay, you are doing a very shitty job."

"I don't have to try to get you to stay. You _have _to stay. There are wards all around this site, and you have no idea where you are. You could splinch yourself if you try to Apparate."

The Alpha's smirk was triumphant. The bitch at his side cackled again, her fingers twirling one of his thick silver dread locks. One of the bells rattled ominously through the tent.

Bel knew then that his father knew exactly what was going on. He had probably contacted Lucius, who had then told Draco to invite Bel to Hogsmeade. It all made sense. His father was making a political move by letting slip that he was a werewolf to his teachers. His father had sent him here.

What had his mother done? Did she care? He wondered if she even knew.

Bel was devastated, but he kept his face a calm mask. All occupants of the tent were silent, watching him. The bitch was still smirking at him, her fingers lazily pulling at Fenrir's silver locs.

Fenrir looked very pleased with himself as he exited the tent, brushing past Bel as he did so. Fang pat him on the shoulder, smiling sadly as he also left.

Only he and the female wolf remained. She smirked at him, stepping forward.

"Fenrir may be eager to take you into the pack, but know this," her hand shot out, taking a tight grip in his hair, "you will _never _be welcome here, pretty boy. No one wants you. Not even your pathetic wizards want you. Just bare your neck and leave us alone, and maybe you'll survive the full moon."

The look on her face made the once pretty features horribly ugly, and she turned and left without another glance.

For the first time in years, Beltrano raised his arm to cover his eyes, and he let himself cry. The tears ran hot down his cool cheeks, some spilling over his lips. Soon his shirtsleeve was damp, and his shoulders were shaking. He didn't know how long he stood there, in silent agony, but he cut off his sorrow when he heard footsteps approaching the tent.

It was Fang. He had a smile on his gentle face, and the scent of smoked meat filled the tent.

"We've just started dinner, if you want some," his voice was very soft, as if Bel would break if he spoke too loudly. That same pity from earlier crossed his face, and Bel turned away in shame. He hated the acknowledgement of his weakness in that voice, gravelly and tinged with a Scottish accent.

"I'm not really—"

"Nonsense!" Cried Fang boisterously. He tugged Bel out by his robes with a wink that made Bel's cheeks flare with heat.

The entire pack—probably about fifty werewolves—sat around a large bonfire in the middle of the circle of tents. Little children laughed, chasing each other around in the orange firelight. The moon was a small crescent in the clear sky, and they all felt its warm presence.

Fang kept their arms locked, even as members of the pack stared at them and began to whisper. Fenrir sent him a cold smirk from his position at the head of the fire. He held a paper plate full of what smelled like smoked rabbit. Fang rushed over, made a plate, and thrust it into Bel's hands.

More and more of the pack stared at Bel as Fang forced him to sit down in their circle. They blatantly scooted away from him. The ginger man that had been there when they had kidnapped him growled under his breath, viciously taking a bite out of a turkey leg.

It wasn't much different from Hogwarts, really.

Bel stared down at his plate, and then he began poking the bird meat he had been given. It was cooked evenly through, and it smelled delicious. His twisted insides made him want to throw up with every inhale.

"So, what is your mother like?" Asked Fang when the noise of the group had started up again.

Bel narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.

"Why are you being so nice and attentive? What do you want from me?"

Fang smiled that gentle smile of his, even warmer under the orange glow of the bonfire.

"I simply understand what you are going through. Also, you intrigue me. Most of us have been living here for quite some time."

Bel leaned back in the dead grass, his arms out behind him.

"So, you have lived here all your life?"

Fang chuckled. "You have to answer my question first."

Sigh. "Very well. My mother is beautiful, she is Italian and has light green eyes, and she is the one who raised me."

Fang nodded. He was the type of person who listened attentively to anything you had to say. He slipped easily into conversation and made one feel important in his eyes.

"Now you," Bel said before Fang could ask another question.

Fang smiled again, and Bel's cheeks warmed.

"I wasn't born here, I came when I was about twenty. I wasn't a wizard when I was turned. Fenrir's pack had just started when I joined. They taught me many things about my lycanthropy that I'm sure will be taught to you."

His gray eyes drifted over the pack.

"I just wish they could be as accepting as they used to. Many of the elders are out on a hunt, so you will meet them later. I did not go because of a sprained ankle, but I am all healed now."

He turned his gaze back to Bel.

"I am glad I stayed."

His voice was filled with meaning and kindness, and it made Bel's hear flutter in his chest.

"Hi Fang. Hey, are you the wizard?"

The voice was tiny, and Bel broke their eye contact to look at the little girl who had spoken. She was of Asian descent, with long black hair and a thick brown coat. She looked like a little doll.

"Yes. My name is Bel."

It was better to give children the shorter version of his name.

Her eyes widened, and a smile curved her face.

"Can you do magic? My mama says that we shouldn't be around wizards, but I like magic."

Bel smiled at her, and sneakily showed her his wand from inside the pocket of his robes.

"Wow. Magic comes out of there?"

"Yes. I learned it at Hogwarts."

"Can you turn people into toads?"

"I'm sure my Transfiguration teacher could. She could turn anything."

"Wow!" The little girl said again.

She held out her hand formally.

"I'm Lillian!"

He fought back a grin, and he shook her tiny mitten.

"Lillian!" A woman's angry voice came from the other side of the fire.

"Gotta go! Bye!" She kissed him on the cheek and scurried off.

Fang laughed, scooting closer to pat him on the back.

"Our pack is very affectionate with each other. It seems I'm not the only one who is willing to accept you."

The little girl's kiss and the warm hand on his robed back made him feel nice, even if the talk of Hogwarts had put an unbearable ache in his chest.

Snape would probably take Malfoy as his Apprentice after all.

* * *

><p>Fang shared a tent with several other male pack members, and he invited Bel to stay with him. Apparently it was customary for the new members to sleep in the Alpha's tent, but Fenrir had ignored all others and went to bed without an offer.<p>

Feeling horribly unwanted despite his dislike of the Alpha, he had accepted the offer to sleep in Fang's tent.

There were five men, all snoring, in the rather small space. They slept huddled together, limbs thrown casually like the sleeping wolves that they were. Fang was respected by all members of the pack, and despite their grumbling, they had let him sleep without a fuss.

Bel was still awake, his eyes wide and alert.

He couldn't sleep like this.

He wasn't wanted in this tent.

He wasn't wanted in this _pack. _

Where was he wanted? Why hadn't Dumbledore intervened? Why hadn't McGonagall intervened? Why hadn't anyone cared about him?

Aching inside, Bel stood quietly and left the tent. The moon was bright, despite its smallness in the sky, and his senses were heightened by his condition. He trudged out into the clearing, his breathing shaky but quiet.

In times of stress, he usually smoked muggle herb and read until he fell asleep. He hadn't needed to in years, even with the stress of Umbridge's presence looming over him.

"What do you think you are doing?"

A voice snarled from behind him. He jumped. It was rare that someone could startle him with his keen sense of hearing. It was the ginger werewolf from before, and he was red with anger.

**_A.N.:_**

**_Yeah. Review more please. :( _**

**_Anyway...I don't know what to say about this one. I gave Fenrir dreads, because I think dreads are the sexiest hairstyle in the entire universe. unff_**


	4. Chapter 4

The man's nostrils, with the pale translucency that the rest of his skin retained, flared dramatically as he snarled. Bel took a slow step backward, trying to soothe the furious man with his calm movements. It only seemed to rouse the agitated werewolf even more, and Bel watched in alarm as his canines stretched over his bottom teeth.

"You're filth! You can't even be grateful for the things we give you. What are you doing? Are you going to run away? Are you going to slit their throats while they are sleeping?"

The more the reasons for Beltrano's wakefulness stirred in his mind, the angrier the ginger man got.

"I'm going to—I'm going to fucking _kill_ you."

He leapt, his body lithe and quick like a panther rather than a wolf. Bel crouched, ducking to the right as he sent his foot blindly in the other man's direction. His toes ached when his feet collided with the hard bone in his shin, and the other man let out a growl. He swung his fist before Bel could dodge, and the younger man moaned in pain as his vision blackened and his jaw ached. He fell to the ground, curling in on himself as the deranged werewolf sent blow after blow to his body. He kicked when he could, breaking the other man's nose, but that only made him madder.

Blood spattered over both of them, the scent of the older werewolf become poignant in the air. Both of their attacks became more feral, and soon they were growling and snarling, their teeth gnashing and their voices pained. Adrenaline pumped through them, filling them with anger and almost unearthliness.

Before Bel realized it, they were being pulled apart by a very pissed off Fenrir Greyback and a very emotionless Fang. Bel felt like his body was on _fire_, his lips bled down his face and his ribs creaked together when he moved. He peaked through his aching eyelids at most of the pack, looking tired and bewildered.

"What the _fuck _is wrong with you two? What the fuck are you doing in the middle of the night fighting like this? Zeke?"

The ginger man snapped out of his reverie, and his eyes narrowed to slits as they zeroed in on Bel.

"He was out here when I came out to take a piss. He was trying to leave."

Fenrir dropped the ginger unceremoniously to the ground, crossing his arms over his broad tan chest.

"Was he now?"

"_No _I wasn't. I couldn't sleep so I left the tent, and this arsehole attacked me."

Zeke snarled, lunging for him once again, only to be caught by Greyback.

"You. Go to fucking bed. You. Come with me."

Bel limped after him, pushed forward by the still expressionless Fang. He could feel the older werewolf's annoyance and disappointment, and that made the walk to Fenrir's tent all the more bitter.

The night had been cold, and the warm dry air of the tent soothed his aching body just a bit. Bel sighed, swaying slightly with Fang's firm grip on his arm. Fenrir rustled with something at the back of the tent, and then he abruptly stepped forward and tore the robes off of Bel's body. He didn't even need to _pull. _All he did was grab and yank and then they were gone. Bloody beast. Bel started to protest, but Fenrir was smearing something on the cuts on his chest. It tingled, soothing the burn. _Healing him? _

Fang loosened his grip on his arm and gently pat him on the shoulder.

"I'm going to make sure Zeke isn't angry eating again. He ate all of the meat last time," he said in his gentle way as he left the tent.

The silence between Bel and Fenrir was awkward as the Alpha spread the herbal scented cream on his wounds. It was especially awkward when he came to the split lip and blackened eyes, but Fenrir seemed determined to ignore that and continue his ministrations.

"Do you think my ribs are broken? I don't want them to heal incorrectly," said Bel, lifting his arms a bit and wincing as his ribs ached.

Fenrir prodded around his torso, and then shook his head. "No, they are just bruised. Did I miss anywhere?"

"No."

Fenrir nodded as if he knew the answer already, and then he sat down on the bed of furs.

"I know the pack has been hard on you, but they are not fond of wizards. Give them time, and they will come around."

Bel gave a tight smile.

"But will I be killed before they have the chance to 'come around'? That man attacked me for no reason just now. And that woman said I would only survive the full moon if I was completely submis—"

"What woman?"

"Oh, I don't know. She was in here when you were speaking with me."

More like snarling at him.

Fenrir groaned in annoyance, falling back on the furs with his arms spread out beside him.

"That woman is the devil. Don't listen to her. I only allow her in my presence because she would be insufferable if I didn't."

Bel was amused by this side of his Alpha. He felt the urge to please and submit, as any werewolf created by Fenrir would. When Fenrir was being civil, the wolf outweighed the anger he felt towards him.

They were silent for a moment, and Bel knew he had to get the question of his chest that he had been holding in for so long.

"Why now?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you wait until now to bring me here?" _Why didn't you bring me here where I could be safe?_

Fenrir grunted, sitting up. His silvery dreads fell over his shoulders, the tiny bells laced in them ringing softly. He was shirtless, clad only in wool cutoff trousers like most of the other men there.

Fenrir was very quiet, and for a moment, Bel thought he saw a flash of sadness in his face.

"I thought I had killed you. Well, I was told that I had by your asshole of a Father. I found out a month ago that you were at Hogwarts and I knew I had to get you out of there."

_What._

"What?"

Fenrir glanced up at the bewildered look on his face, and then he grimaced in embarrassment.

"Shut up, and close your mouth," he growled, relaxing against the furs once more, "it's my job as an Alpha to keep track of all of you."

Bel was still shell shocked.

"Oh okay. Can I go back to Hogwarts now?"

"No."

"Why not! I thought we were getting somewhere!"

"_You_ are not going back until you get those fucking stupid prejudices about werewolves out of your head."

"But I was going to be an Apprentice! I had schoolwork!"

"They were going to kick you out soon anyway. That Umbridge bitch was catching on, according to Lucius Malfoy."

Bel folded his arms across his chest.

"Snape would have still let me be his Apprentice. I don't have to go to the school to do that."

"Oh shut the fuck up. Why would you want to work with Snape anyway? That guy's a dick."

"He's a renowned Potion's Master and he's not afraid to use Dark Magic to improve a potion."

"Someone has a crush."

Bel sputtered for a moment, his face heating up, and Fenrir laughed mockingly at him. Bel tossed a can at him in indignation, which only made the Alpha laugh harder.

"Sleep now, pup. I promise I'll send a message to Professor Snape tomorrow," said Fenrir innocently, crossing his large arms behind his head.

Bel sighed, nodding. He loosened the collar of his slightly dirty school shirt and lay down on the furs. Fenrir shifted a bit behind him, and was almost instantly asleep. Bel felt unexplainably better after their conversation, and he easily drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>"What's <em>he <em>doing in here?" Cried an extremely whiny female voice. Bel groaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. Fenrir was already awake. He took a long swig from a canteen filled with god-knows-what.

"Is it not customary that new pack members stay with me on their first night?" He said easily. She relaxed a bit, but she kept her pouting glare focused on Beltrano. Bel rolled his eyes and stood, straightening out his clothes. A dark head popped in next to the woman—Mandy—and a wide smile stretched across the handsome face.

"Well, well! You look better!" He rushed into the tent and gave Bel an extremely enthusiastic hug. Bel blushed, patting the man's back awkwardly.

Fenrir snorted from across the tent. Bel glared at him.

"Thank you, Fang. I feel much better."

Fang pat the side of his face, smiling brightly. He nodded to his Alpha and fled the tent with a small kind glance at Mandy. She curled her lip at him, still too annoyed to be fully pleased.

"Are we going to send a message to Professor Snape now? Or perhaps Professor Dumbledore? I would like to receive my missing schoolwork while I still can."

Fenrir snorted again, stretching (dear god are that many muscles even _necessary) _and rising from the furs. "Alright, pup. I've got an owl that will send the message for ya."

He wrapped an arm around Mandy's shoulders, and she blushed. She smiled sweetly.

"Hallo Bel!" A tiny voice sounded from below his hip. The little girl from the night before was there, looking sleepy and happy. "Good morning Lillian. How was did you sleep?"

"Good. I heard you got in a fight with Zeke over a pretty girl. My mum says that boys like to fight over girls."

Bel was about to dissuade her assumption when Fenrir butt in. "Actually, they were fighting over the last piece of meat. Those savages."

Lillian gasped, then she shook her tiny finger at him. "You have to share! If you don't share then you fight! And when you fight you get black eyes!"

"Wha—"

Lillians mother emerged from a nearby tent. She gasped, grabbed the little girl's hand, and strode off as quickly as she could.

"Greyback…"

Fenrir smirked, entirely pleased with himself. Fang laughed good-naturedly, his hand finding its way to Bel's shoulder. Bel blushed again. Fenrir's smirk widened.

"Alpha! Alpha!" The voice got louder and louder as the werewolf shouting drew nearer. It was a blonde teenager—around the same age as Bel—and he was running full speed toward them.

"Yes, what is it Isaac?"

"Remus Lupin is here, Alpha. He's back. I don't know how, but—"

Isaac couldn't even finish his sentence, because Fenrir was strutting past him, his long legs stretching as far as they could go as he bypassed the smaller male.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN:_**

**_You're going to hate me for this, but I've had this chapter ready for like two months. I kind of thought I already uploaded it._**

**_Please don't hurt me. 3 I lav u al sew much_**

**_-Marching Clocks_**


	5. Chapter 5

Bel startled, his eyes zeroing in on a small figure that sat hunched in a heap of muddy clothing, weak and vacant in the snow. "Professor Lupin," He heard himself murmur, shout? The noise burst forth from his lips without much permission from him. He bolted after Greyback, shrugging off Fang's hand that clasped his shoulder.

"Professor?" Bel gasped as they approached. Lupin's head shot up as if prodded with a fire poker. His sunken, dark eyes widened, haunted. He looked haggard and old, older than Bel knew him to be. Bel started toward him, but a low, animal growl halted him. Greyback surged forward, seizing Lupin by the throat and hurling him into the air like a rag doll. Lupin struggled weakly, his hands scratching at Greyback's massive one, his face reddening and purpling as he was lifted. "Stop! Stop!" Bel cried in alarm. Fenrir only continued his assault, hand clenching tighter, golden eyes bright and furious. The growling was even louder now, booming from the man's chest and throat. Bel leapt onto the massive werewolf, sinking his teeth in _hard _to the juncture of the man's neck and shoulder, gagging as blood filled his mouth. Greyback roared, sending Lupin hurling into the mud and reeling around on Bel, who had fallen to the ground and was spitting globs of blood into the muddy snow. "I said stop," he gasped.

Lupin let out a weak wheeze from his position, awkwardly curled in on himself with his arms against his chest. Fenrir's fury had gone cold and hard as he advanced towards Bel. Fang stepped forward as if to protect him, but Bel jumped up on his own accord, meeting Greyback's eyes with determination. "I'm going to see if the Professor is alright. Leave him alone." He set his mouth in a hard line, forcing himself to meet the amber eyes that squinted furiously back at him. He turned without witnessing the alpha's reaction and dropped to his knees next to the skinny, haggard-looking man.

"God, Professor Lupin, are you alright?" He asked, hands skittering about the man, too afraid to touch him that he might shatter. "It's a bit late to be calling me Professor isn't it?" Lupin said in a tiny, tiny voice. A small smile curled his chapped lips, his face had gone from purple to pale as milk. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Bel ignored his joke, helping the man sit up and prodding around his rips, checking his pulse. "God, you look terrible, are you alright? What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

"He's here to sell us to the Ministry again," said Greyback's cold, deep voice from behind them. "He's here to make sure we're once and for all slaughtered by wizards. Get the fuck away from him so I can put him out of his misery. He's almost dead from taking that Wolfsbane poison, anyway." Greyback snarled, barely contained by Fang's gentle hand on his broad shoulder.

"Wolfsbane? Professor? You're a werewolf? I thought those were just rumors!" Bel's bewilderment colored his voice. A wry smile twisted Lupin's lips even as his eyes warily watched Greyback's advance. "And you've been taking Wolfsbane?" That explained how Bel hadn't noticed Lupin's lycanthropy when he was a teacher. Wolfsbane dulled the symptoms of lycanthropy, the smell, the canine instinct, the connection with the moon, but very nearly poisoned the host. Bel inhaled deeply and smelled only the sharp, sweet, and acrid stench of the potion pumping through the thin man's veins. "I've been taking it since I was a boy." Bel's jaw dropped.

"He's no werewolf, pup, he's a pathetic, sickly wizard who has threatened my pack for the last time." Fenrir sharply surged forward, and Bel turned to cover Lupin with his own body, glaring up at the alpha. "Stop it. Can't you see how sick he is? Leave him alone, send him back to Dumbledore or his family if you have to, but leave him alone." Fenrir grabbed Bel's shoulder hard, yanking him to his feet and snarling in his face. "Why do you wish to protect these wizards? After everything they have done to you? After what they've done to your kind? Lupin is the reason half of my pack was jailed or executed during the last war. He reported all of my actions to Dumbledore and betrayed his own kind. If you protect him, I'll consider you a betrayer as well, and I will kill you to." He spit then on Lupin, who flinched weakly, eyes dully shutting. Bel snarled, snapping at the fingers bunching his jumper, his claws extending. His ribs ached from his early injuries, but the pain was quickly becoming ignorable. Other members of the pack had gathered, hanging back at the spectacle, wide-eyed and confused. "I don't fucking care. Kill me after all the trouble you went through to bring me here." Bel could hear the growl coating his own voice, and he was sure his own fangs were beginning to protrude. He was furious, memories of Remus Lupin's kind smile flashing through his brain, memories of Lupin's praise and gentle accolades coloring his anger. He was on his bruising, smarting back before he knew what to do, Greyback's hand closed around his throat in much the same way as he had accosted Lupin.

Bel bucked, pinned by the man's massive body, snarling and dizzy from a lack of air. He felt warm blood from Greyback's shoulder dripping onto his face, and his own welling from gouges marked by Fenrir's extended claws. "Alpha, please!" Cried Fang, his eyes wide. "Stay back," snapped Greyback through the water that seemed to fill Bel's skull. He managed to free one of his arms and he slashed, striking Greyback across the face. Fenrir roared in pain, blood already streaming from the wounds. Bel latched onto his arm with his teeth, growling, mashing the flesh in his mouth.

* * *

><p>Bel awoke suddenly with a sharp gasp. He was unclothed except for his pants and trousers, and his head and neck were throbbing with pain. Severus Snape sat on the end of his cot, his dark eyes shuttered as he watched his own folded hands. Bel seemed to be in a tent on the same campground, but in a cot with sheets instead of furs. A small glowing lamp lit the room, hovering by Professor Snape. "Professor?" Bel rasped in confusion. Snape's eyes flitted up to his face, cold and intense. "Mr. Gallo. It is nice to see you awake." The Professor rose, black robes billowing and conjured a few more lamps that hung eye-level, slowly drifting the perimeter of the tent. "You Transfigured this cot?" Bel fingered the soft blanket surrounding him. "Yes. It's not up to Professor McGonagall's standards but it does suffice. Your injuries were not severe. You suffered a minor concussion and a few cuts and bruises. Nothing a few potions could not mend." Snape clasped his hands behind his back, face unreadable. "Greyback sent me an owl. He said you wished, still, to be my Apprentice."<p>

Bel was even more confused than he was when he woke up. "He still sent you an owl? Even after he tried to kill me and Professor Lupin?" The memories surged up in his mind again, Lupin gasping and weak in the snow. "Oh god, is he okay?"

"Lupin is unscathed. He managed to strike up a bargain with Greyback." Snape was, as he was notorious for being, completely unclear. Bel decided to change his line of questioning as Snape seemed unhappy to speak about Lupin and Greyback. "And you came? Why?" He asked bluntly, watching Snape's face carefully. Snape's face didn't change, but his frown did seem to microscopically deepen. "I wanted to tell you the conditions of your Apprenticeship, should you choose to accept it. I wanted you to be wholly aware of the situation at hand." Bel was startled by the intensity in Snape's smoky, deep voice.

"I am a Death Eater, Mr. Gallo. I am a trusted and favored servant of the Dark Lord. I have killed numerous muggles and innocents, and I have watched even more killed in front of me. I have seen terrible acts of violence committed in the Dark Lord's name. I know your father, who takes pleasure in such acts. I know Draco Malfoy's father, who takes pleasure in such acts. I know the Dark Lord himself, who takes pleasure in things of such a terrible nature he seems inhuman. I am not loyal to him. I have been in the past, but I am not now."

Bel was stunned in his silence. Snape's voice continued to be void of emotion, but his deep frown trembled a bit. "I am, as I have been for the past ten years, loyal to Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. I have dedicated my life as a spy against the Dark Lord and I expect I will die for this. As my Apprentice, you must know this loyalty too. You must feign a love and appreciation for genocide as I do. You must lie for me and about me."

"Why do you trust me with this? Why are you telling me this?" Bel felt hysterical, his hands clenched hard around the blanket.

"I have been using Legillimens on you ever since you showed potential as a potions maker. It is one of Dumbledore's many methods he has….approved for monitoring the students, especially those with Death Eaters in the family."

"So you've been…reading my mind?! And Dumbledore has approved this?"

"It is not the first time I have invaded the privacy of a person under Dumbledore, and it will not be the last. While he is the lesser of two evils he is not, as many would think, a good man." Snape rubbed his forearm slowly, where the Dark Mark was surely burned into his skin. Bel shuddered, feeling sick.

"I will not use Legillimens on you again. I know you to be trustworthy and if not I will Obliviate you," Snape said bluntly, coldly, still rubbing at his forearm.

"Why me, Snape? Why the fuck do you want me for this? Why are you trusting me with this all?"

Bel was shouting before he even realized he was, humiliated and terrified at what Snape was telling him.

"I am telling you this because you are a brilliant young wizard. You have more potential than any student I have taught. You are also a werewolf in the pack of Fenrir Greyback, a known supporter of the Dark Lord. Dumbledore thinks you will be an invaluable asset." Snape closed his eyes and Beltrano began to tremble.

"An asset? God, Snape, _god, _I just wanted….I just wanted to be a wizard….I just wanted to be _normal_, I wanted you to teach me potions because you were the best, now I find out that you wanted to _use _me for some kind of fucked up military operation? _God_." Bel's throat was thick and his eyes were burning. Snape opened his, regret suddenly plain on the usually bland face. "In another world, Beltrano, many things would have been different. I would be a different man. I would be overjoyed to have an intelligent, eager pupil to teach about a subject I enjoy. I would have taken you under my wing and made you the best potion's master the wizarding world had ever seen. But this is not another world." As soon as Snape called him by his first name, Bel began to cry, staring wide-eyed at the willowy Professor. "Dumbledore believes that you will be an asset to our cause. I agree with him. I begged him to leave you alone. I do not want any more children in this fight."

Snape sat then, close to Bel, eyes burning and intense, his lips curled and his face pained. "Tell me now that you don't want this, and I will remove this conversation from your memory. You will think yourself merely spurned, passed over for another candidate." Snape did not try to convince him, he merely offered an escape. Bel's mind reeled, his face wet with tears, his neck and head aching. He opened his mouth, closed it again.

"You do not have to answer me now. I will come back in a week's time to talk to you again. Have your decision by then. Think carefully about what you intend to do." Snape's hand hovered about Bel's knee for a second, as if he wished to physically comfort him, but he pulled back, rising to his feet. "I must leave now. Think about what I have said, and tell no one about this. I am only leaving you here without my protection because none of Greyback's werewolves could enter your mind without permission and take this information from you. You have a week, Gallo."

The whip of the tent opening and closing was the only sound Snape made as he left, and the crack of Apparation signaled that he was truly gone.

Bel's mind stuttered and swam in his worry and confusion. He wondered how many of his thoughts Snape had seen. He wondered which thoughts had made Snape trust him enough to tell him he was a _spy. _God! What if he met Voldemort somehow and gave it all away?

Bel was startled suddenly out of this thoughts by Greyback, his musky, pleasant scent preceding him seconds before he pushed aside the flap to Bel's tent. Greyback was momentarily startled by the sight of Bel sitting on a cot in the dark, the lamps having left with Professor Snape. Greyback carried an oil lamp of his own, and he grimaced at the sight of Bel's tears.

"He rejected you?"

"No," Bel's voice replied shortly.

Greyback's scarred, handsome face twisted in confusion. He set the lamp on the hook sewed on to the fabric of the tent and sat himself down near Bel's feet. Bel tensed, glaring. "Get away from me. You just tried to kill me. You can't come in here and be my Alpha after that." Greyback's eyes narrowed, zeroing in on the purpling bruises around Bel's neck. "I am your Alpha, pup, and nothing can change that." He, in a motion that was too fast for Bel to comprehend, suddenly pressed his hand to the back of Bel's neck and pressed his chin to the top of Bel's head. Bel found himself mouthing at the Alpha's jaw, purring low in his throat and baring his belly in submission. Bel could not stop, even as his eyes widened and his mind screamed at him to _bite _and _fight. _Greyback smoothed his hand through Bel's hair, humming. "I told you, pup. Your body knows. It's in your blood, your instincts. This is who you are, you are my pack. And I am yours." Bel let out a helpless whimper, more tears slipping down his cheeks as he continued nuzzling Greyback, who adjusted their bodies so they were laying spread-out on the cot. "Go to sleep, we will talk more in the morning," Greyback promised, rubbing Bel's bare back as his body shook with his tears.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**Wow, it's been a long fucking time! When I started this story I was really young and now I'm a lot older and feeling really creepy writing from the POV of an underaged boy? ? but I guess I can do it? I have no idea what made me start writing this again. God I'm sorrry it's been a long time if ppl are still waiting for this? ? ahhh?/? ?/? (whispering) I almost like wrote a snape love gay scene because I love snape i'm so orry))))**


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